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“What’s the holdup?” Grey demanded as he caught up with them. He, Cort, and Calder had been bringing up the rear, clearing out any pestilents who were trying to sneak up on them from behind.
“Harrison had another vision,” Wiley volunteered.
Grey lifted a questioning brow at Harrison, who could only shake his head. “Just a short one about an attack.”
“And Hale was with you?”
Harrison nodded. Something flickered across Grey’s face that was gone before Harrison could try to figure it out.
“That’s the fourth one since we started on the trail, and the last one was only about fifteen minutes ago. All of them happened when Hale was close,” Grey listed.
Shock rippled through Harrison. How had he not noticed that? Of course, he’d also been fighting for his life and trying to protect the other Weavers and mates at the time. It also didn’t help that bouncing between visions of the future and the present had a way of scrambling his sense of reality a bit. “You think Hale’s close proximity has something to do with my gift?”
“That or your gift is growing stronger, becoming more focused,” Grey murmured. He turned his attention farther up the trail. Clay, Dane, Lucien, and Gio were in the lead, clearing a path. “I’ve just told Clay and Lucien to hold up. I want Harrison to take the lead. We protect him and follow his orders.”
“What?” Harrison gasped, ignoring the fact that Hale was already pulling him to his feet.
“Your visions could give us an edge. As they hit you, shout out instructions,” Grey ordered.
Harrison’s heart leaped into his throat. What if they didn’t keep coming? What if he took too long to sort through what he saw? He could be responsible for the death of all of them before they even reached the rift.
“You can do this, Angel,” Hale said.
“You have to. The closer we get, the thicker the pestilents are getting.”
With a jerky nod, Harrison moved to the front of their group. He started to reach for the two handguns he’d holstered just minutes ago, but he dropped his hands back to his sides. If he was going to be focused on his visions and using his gift to peer into the future, he couldn’t be worried about the present. The Weavers and the mates surrounding him would keep him safe.
The power in his chest burned a little brighter, and his brain cells seemed to tingle just under his scalp. With every step, the feeling grew stronger. Hale remained close at his side, fingers brushing against his hand before he’d pop up into the air to take a look around, then he was back again.
They met up with the rest of the group as they fought a swarm of pestilents. Bullets, fire, water, and earth cut through the invading army. A lion roared and jumped into the mix. Here and there Harrison caught sight of pestilents falling suddenly, blood spurting from mysterious wounds. The mark of an invisible Gio slinking along the line of pestilents, taking out his targets with frightening precision.
But they were still outnumbered, and their strength wouldn’t hold for much longer. If the Weavers were exhausted before they reached the rift, how would they cast the spell?
His brain started to fuzz over, and Harrison reached for the vision, but this time it didn’t quite envelop him like the others. Part of him remained grounded in the present while another part was staring into the future. It was like another battle had overlaid the first. He could see what was going to happen.
And they could take advantage of it. Turn the tide.
Harrison looked around, identifying weak spots in the pestilents’ attacks, placing where he could cut them down faster.
“Clay! The boulder on your right. Send it to the back of the pestilent line now! Lucien, create a barrier wall of flames to the left! Hale, brute-force gale. Push the pestilents away!”
Order after order tumbled from Harrison’s lips. They corralled and slaughtered countless pestilents. Every time they tried to retreat and regroup, Harrison saw it and countered it with new orders to the Weavers. The pestilent army became like sheep being herded to their death.
They trekked the final mile like this with Harrison balanced between two times. His head ached fiercely, and his knees were starting to tremble from the exertion. He was pulling on the last of his own strength when Hale wrapped around him.
“Let the power go, Angel, before you hurt yourself,” Hale admonished in his ear. “We’re nearly there. The pestilents have pulled back.”
“But it’s John…” Harrison said in a rough voice.
“Yes,” Grey agreed. His own tone was cold and had an almost numb feeling to it.
“He has…”
“Humans. Hundreds of them. They’re blocking our route to the rift,” Grey continued. “I can feel them. Hear their thoughts.”
Harrison turned to look at the Soul Weaver standing just a few feet away, staring into the distance. His face was ashen, and sweat slicked his dark hair that appeared even more liberally sprinkled with gray strands.
